


Five Times The Charm

by ThatScottishShipper



Series: Fanfic Fortnight [8]
Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Depressed Hank Anderson, Deviant Connor (Detroit: Become Human), First Kiss, Five Times, Gift Fic, Headaches & Migraines, Innuendo, Kissing It Better, M/M, Public Humiliation, Request Meme, Stomach Ache, dont repost to another site
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-10
Updated: 2020-02-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 21:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22652437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatScottishShipper/pseuds/ThatScottishShipper
Summary: The Five Times Connor kisses Hank to make him feel better.And Hank is left a confused mess.*Written for the Kiss Meme, prompt “Where It Hurts.”
Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor
Series: Fanfic Fortnight [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1537399
Comments: 8
Kudos: 109





	Five Times The Charm

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lady_of_Rohan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_of_Rohan/gifts).



The first time Connor kissed Hank was where he needed it most.

As the Lieutenant slunk into another depressive spell on the couch, surrounded by empty beer cans and bad memories, Connor knew he had to do something. Watching the man bask in the television’s glow and quite literally the blues, the Android knew that was no longer just a human expression.

Cracking open a can, Hank stared helplessly into nothing, not quite sure what he hoped to find. Answers? Golden hope? He held a hand to his exposed chest, between his parted robes, tracing an old sentimental tattoo, before letting his hand fall to his side.

Because he simply couldn’t be bothered anymore.

And, of course, Connor stood by the doorway, a question on his lips.

“Lieutenant? Is there anything I can do?”

A sudden sad smile touched his lips, and Hank shook his head. “Nah, Con. There’s nothing you can do to help this old pain of mine.”

Within his complex system, Connor weighed his options, analysing all the possible causes of Hank’s chest discomfort, while monitoring the Lieutenant’s vital readings.

While Hank did display an intangible chest discomfort, there were no irregularities in his heartbeat, nor sweating or visible signs of pain in other parts of the body. Connor ruled out the most life-threatening conditions, but what did that leave, and could Connor help him?

A small sample of home treatments entered his HUD, which gave him some relief, a sense of usefulness.

**[🔼 Cold pack treatment?**

**⏹ Holistic hot drink.**

**⏺ Massage.]**

The last one threw him for a computerised loop, confusing him completely. Sitting right there, so seemingly nonchalant and not at all out of place, was his final option.

***️⃣ Kiss.]**

Connor blinked, his LED flickering.  _ Kiss? _

He thought about it over and over, trying to think where such a strange result came from in his system search. Until a possible reason came from merely accessing the World Wide Web, and one of Hank’s favourite search engines.

_ ‘When in doubt, just Google it, as the good Lieutenant would say.’ _

The answer read:

**[Kiss. Kiss something to make it better.**

**To comfort a sick or injured person, especially a child, by kissing the sore or injured part of their body as a gesture of removing pain.]**

The Android’s LED flashed red.

Meanwhile, Hank chugged back his beer, isolating himself from his company and nursing his grief. His heart felt so heavy, a concrete soul of grief that made him feel no respite was in sight.

_ ‘What I wouldn’t give to not feel anymore…’ _

As he took another swing of his hard booze, ready to obliterate everything from his mind, he felt the softest sensation against his chest. Hank suspected this was the final weakened beating of an old broken heart finally packing in.

What he saw, however, was far different to what he imagined, nearly causing him to choke.

Connor’s lips touched his chest, where his heart kept him alive. Warmth spread from the glyph of his tattoo, and he had no idea how to react to this situation. His booze emboldened brain just fizzled out.

When his Partner finally pulled away from him, Hank scrambled back into reality, nearly dropping his beer in the process.

“Connor,” his voice hitched, heat flooding his cheeks. “What are you  _ doing? _ ”

The RK800 cleared his throat. “Kissing you to make it better.” A worried expression took hold. “Is that not how it works?”

The stunned Lieutenant stared at Connor, an insanely intelligent Android created by the greatest minds at CyberLife who had come to the logic of kissing him to heal his heartbreak.

_ Oh _ .

The penny dropped, and Hank sobered up immediately.

The sight of Connor’s estranged expression, panicking LED, conveyed the Android wrestling with the concept of doing something wrong, of misinterpreting information.

Hank smirked, knowing it wasn’t as simple as ‘kissing the blues better,’ but he appreciated the sentiment of Connor wanting to help him somehow, even if the method was a little strange. “...Thanks, Con.”

And Connor smiled, neatly tucking that valuable information away. “You’re very welcome, Lieutenant.”

xxx

The second time Connor kissed Hank came the following morning.

Returning from a crisp morning walk with Sumo, Connor heard a loud thump and subsequent swearing. Concerned, the Android tossed the lead on the couch, and raced towards the lobby.

“Lieutenant?”

Another harsh hiss came from around the corner. The Saint Bernard bounded with Connor only to find Hank slouched on the floor across from his bedroom, clutching his foot, and airing his pained frustration in glorious detail.

“Hank, are you alright?” Connor knelt down beside him, as Sumo showered his master with slobbering kisses.

“Fine!” Hank hissed, never letting go of his aching foot. “Toe - stupid - motherf -  _ door! _ ”

Wishing to incinerate the offending door with a searing glare, Connor reacted instantly with the knowledge stored in his memory bank.

**[Kissing made Hank’s chest pain lessen.**

**Kissing Hank’s foot will lessen the pain.]**

Sweeping in, Connor took hold of Hank’s wounded foot, almost knocking the startled man onto his back if not for the wall behind him. Sliding helplessly, Hank managed a “ _ what the hell? _ ” before falling silent when he realised that Connor placed his lips against his stubbed toe.

Messy memories of the night prior returned, and Hank flushed beet red. While the throbbing pain still seized his toe, his full attention went to those soft lips brushing against his skin.

His Android was kissing his bloody foot now, and honestly, Hank was very conflicted about it.

When Connor sat up, asking Hank if he “felt better,” the Lieutenant could barely speak, overwhelmed by the absurdity of it all. He managed a nod, unable to look away from the strange look in the Android’s eyes.

_ ‘Have I made a huge mistake?’ _

xxx

The third time Connor kissed Hank was at work.

Obsessing over their newest casework at the DPD, Hank slurped the blackest coffee with no sugar. He massaged the side of his temple, already feeling the making of a headache.

Drinking the night before probably didn’t help, but the stresses and strains of trying to figure out these cases piling up on the Homicide side of the office was eating away at him.

Even with a smart robo-Partner, his desk felt a little more cluttered than it normally did, given Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s preference for paperwork rather than digital breakdowns. That was Connor’s forte.

Closing his eyes, he groaned, tired out when the day had already begun and trying to control his pounding headache. When he eventually cracked open his eyes, Hank knew he was already reaching his limit, blinded by the ridiculous bright lights.

“Hey, Connor. Whaddaya say we hit the streets for some fresh air, huh? Stuffy as hell in he… re?”

The entire station went quiet, but the inside of his head buzzed wildly. That’s because Connor had opted to disconnect himself from the desk, walk around to Hank’s side of the desk, lean in, and repeat his hat trick.

A kiss on the temple, like a mind reading  _ freaking _ Android.

In front of the whole station.

How  _ wonderful _ .

Once Connor broke away, Hank noticed the shine in those chocolate brown eyes, and he wondered just how deep they were getting into this silly little game. Surely the dumb kid knew that this was not a good idea in public? At work?

But Connor simply smiled, said “I shall bring you some water, Lieutenant,” then headed for the staff lounge.

Gavin erupted into a cackle of laughter that only made Hank’s headache intensify, while Fowler - who had undoubtedly seen the whole thing with his uncanny shenanigans vision - ordered Hank into his office.

As he made the usual walk to Captain Fowler’s Screaming Glass Chamber of Shame, Hank’s head continued to throb with such an intensity, it was a miracle Connor hadn’t pole vaulted across the office with all the grace of a robotic butterfly, and planted one on him again.

He growled.  _ ‘Guess that water’ll have to wait…’ _

xxx

The fourth time Connor kissed Hank was more daring, borderline obscene.

Escaping the confines of the office for the usual lunch at the Chicken Feed, Hank wolfed down a bacon double cheeseburger in record time, trying to forget the chewing out he got from Jeffrey and that  _ humiliating _ scene from the DPD.

All while Connor stared sweetly at him.

By the time they got back in the car, Hank’s stomach began to tear vicious knots inside him. He wasn’t sure whether it was the stress of everything or the burger, but it  _ hurt _ .

He fell back in his seat, grunting in discomfort.  _ ‘Great. This day’s really heading for the toilet.’ _

“Hank?”

_ Oh boy _ . The dreaded familiar name. Hank knew he was in trouble.

“M’fine,” the Lieutenant mumbled, hastily shoving the keys into the ignition. “Must’ve been something I ate.”

Something free from an expired license establishment, so what the heck did Hank expect?

Thankfully, Hank hadn’t lowered his foot onto the gas pedal when Connor took the opportunity to prostrate himself in front of him, disappearing to anyone who had view from the car window.

All while inside his mind, the same command repeated itself.

**[Kiss Hank.**

**Kissing Hank helps.]**

Connor lifted Hank’s shirt just enough to unveil his belly before kissing the soft rumbling skin softly, hoping it helped because _ he cared very much about Hank’s well being. _

While Hank’s mental faculties screeched into a dying dumpster fire full of wailing rubber chicken toys.

_ “Connor, what the f-?!” _

Mortified, Hank hissed at Connor to get up, but not before old buddy Gary caught sight from the Chicken Feed. Interpreting the situation in only the way it could be, the cook raised his eyebrows suggestively, the makings of a smirk on his lips as he wiped down the front counter for a little too long.

Even as Connor peered up at him, acting all coy from below, Hank burned from the embarrassment of the situation. At first, it was weird, maybe a little cute in an innocent way, but Connor had to know what he was doing, right?

Right?

“Is everything alright, Hank?” said Connor from between his legs _smiling_ _like a dear little thing._

Unable to take much more of this, Hank managed to respond in a shaky voice. “Peachy. But…. y’mind getting back in your seat?”

xxx

The fifth time Connor kissed Hank was just right.

After the whirlwind insanity that was their day, Hank decided to accompany Connor on evening walk with Sumo. His mind still reeled over everything that happened since last night, and he hated the fact that deep down, he pained for that tender contact.

_ ‘Damn, am I that pathetic?’ _

By the time they reached the end of the street, beneath the gentle glow illuminating them from completely snowy surroundings, Hank spoke.

“This cold’s really chappin’ my lips.” Softly nipping at his bottom lip, he blew out a cold gust of air. “Could really use a…”

Without hesitation, Connor bridged the gap, pressing his surprisingly gentle lips against his. Hank moaned softly, leaning into it, and realising that the Android wasn’t the only one with deductive skills.

The taste of those lips.  _ ‘Pineapple? Sneaky little…’ _

When he felt a hand brushing behind his neck, encouraging him, Hank smiled, learning that kisses didn’t just make  _ him _ feel better.

Connor knew. Of course he knew.

But just for tonight, maybe Hank would let him win this round.

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LadyofRohan87 for the Kiss Meme prompt, “Where It Hurts.”
> 
> This idea really blew up from “Connor misinterprets the kiss and make it better policy once” and became a five times treasure, much to Hank’s embarrassment.
> 
> The Kiss It Better sample from Google came directly from Lexico.com.
> 
> Thank you very much for reading, and I hope you enjoyed it. 💙


End file.
